


BOOM!

by For_That_Cotton_Candy



Category: Lost
Genre: Complete Island Crack, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, So much talking, capslock abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 19:36:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8297851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/For_That_Cotton_Candy/pseuds/For_That_Cotton_Candy
Summary: Jack refuses to take a break. His friends take matters into their own hands.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A warning - Jack refuses to rest; his friends, in a sorely misguided attempt to help, drug him without his consent.

“BOOM!"  
_Lost_  
Jack/Sawyer; Sawyer, Sayid, Hurley, Charlie friendship  
Written Somewhere Early S2  
Complete Island Crack

 

 

***

“Dudes, I feel like I’m watchin’ a tennis match or somethin’,” Hurley said as Jack stalked past them for the fifth time and their heads turned simultaneously as they watched him go. “Back and forth, back and forth . . .”

“He’s like a hamster in a wheel. Goin’ nowhere and just as hard and fast as he can,” Sawyer said and Sayid sighed in agreement and shook his head.

They watched and exchanged a knowing look as Jack again bulldozed past them, his face pale and his eyes shadowed as he continued the non-stop circle he’d been making around the camp for the past three days.

“Nah, I’d say it’s more like he’s gone all season 7 Buffy,” Hurley said and Sawyer and Sayid looked him, puzzled.

“Oh, c’mon, I can’t believe I’m the _only_ one who watched Buffy. Dudes, I just feel so . . . so _alone,”_ Hurley said melodramatically and hung his head sadly before perking back up and continuing. “Anyways, my point is he’s gone all big with the speeches but he really kinda sorta sucks in the morale building department. And now he’s all crazy-eyed and more than a little creepy – he’s startin’ to freak people out.”

“I’m afraid that is true. And I don’t think I’ve seen him stop to eat, much less sleep,” Sayid said. “And he absolutely refuses when I suggest that he do so. He feels angry and he feels helpless and when a man like Jack feels that there is nothing he can do in the face of things such as we’ve seen here then he will _find_ something to do and he will do it until it kills him. Or us. He cannot stand to not be in motion.”

“Well,” Sawyer said wearily, shoving his hair out of his face. “Since the excitement of the reunion has died down and we’re one big happy and completely fucked family, maybe he needs to take a damned day off. Everyone should, I know _I_ sure as hell could use one.”

“What are you suggesting?” Sayid asked, eyeing Sawyer curiously.

“That we find some way to take him out of action for a while,” Sawyer said. “Make him take a break, tie him to a tree while everyone else gets some fuckin’ sleep.”

“Well, if you want somebody to hit him with a rock or somethin’ I’ll do it. He’s _really_ startin’ to bug me,” Hurley muttered, eyes narrowed and mouth twisted as he glared at Jack’s back and Sawyer snorted in amusement. “If he yells at me about that damned manifest one more time . . .”

“Nobody’s hitting anybody with a rock, Hurley,” Sayid said, trying to hide a smile and not quite succeeding.

“You sure? ‘Cause I’d be more than happy to, you know, for his sake and all, was what I meant,” Hurley said and Sayid covered his mouth with one hand.

“Of course it was,” Sayid said and then coughed slightly, a cough that sounded suspiciously like a smothered laugh and Hurley pointed at him accusingly.

“Dude, you are _so_ laughin’. He’s gettin’ on your nerves, too, isn’t he? I bet _you_ wanna hit him with a rock and you’re just savin’ the fun of that for yourself! Well, no way, if anybody’s hittin’ him with a rock it’s _me,_ I call dibs,” Hurley said and started looking around on the ground around them.

“Who’s hittin’ who with a rock?” Charlie asked, walking up behind them.

“Me,” Hurley said, still searching the ground. “I’m hittin’ Jack with a rock.”

“What? Why do _you_ get to hit him with a rock? And why was I left out of this ‘we’re gonna hit Jack with a rock’ discussion? _I’d_ like to hit him with a rock, he’s been a right bastard the past few days. _I’ll_ hit him with a rock!” Charlie said, outraged.

“No way, dude, I called dibs. You get to hit him with a rock next time,” Hurley said, finally finding a rock that seemed to suit his purposes and hefting it in his hands

“Doesn’t count!” Charlie said and tried to grab the rock out of Hurley’s hands. “I didn’t know we were gonna hit Jack with a bloody rock or I would have been first in line!”

“Knock it off, dude, too late, I called dibs!” Hurley yelled and then they were cursing and struggling, playing tug of war with the rock.

Sayid looked at Sawyer in surprise, who had collapsed on to the sand, laughing, hands over his face. “Why, Sawyer, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you laugh before,” he said, settling next to Sawyer on the sand. Then he smiled slightly. “At least, not when it wasn’t you laughing at someone else’s expense.”

“That’s all me, dude, part of my charm, win over hero hick redneck asshole guy who gets shot by ghosts,” Hurley said breathlessly as he continued to struggle with Charlie over the rock.

“Thanks, _dude._ Oh, hell,” Sawyer said, sighing and sitting up. “Well, I am laughin’ at _someone’s_ expense. I gotta say there is somethin’ rather amusin’ about seein’ the doc’s biggest supporters conspirin’ to hit him with a fuckin’ _rock.”_

“I’m suggesting nothing of the sort,” Sayid said haughtily. Then he paused. “I suggest we _shoot_ him, put him out of his misery as well as our own.”

Sawyer snorted and clapped his hand over his mouth and Sayid smiled briefly.

“Of course, I’m only joking. Mostly,” Sayid said and he and Sawyer watched as Jack stalked past them yet again and then paused.

“What in the hell is going on here?” he snapped.

Charlie released the rock immediately and leapt nimbly to hide behind Hurley, peeking out at Jack from around Hurley’s side. “Nothin’, Jack,” he said. “Not a thing.”

“Just . . . talkin’ about rocks,” Hurley said, who’d been left holding the rock. He held it up for Jack’s inspection. “Nice one, huh? All, um, black and . . . uh, rock . . . ish?”

He backed up slightly as Jack glared and in doing so tripped over Charlie and they both fell to the ground with a chorus of curses and a whispered ‘chickenshit!’ from Hurley that set Sawyer off all over again while Sayid pretended to watch the sunset, biting hard at his lower lip.

“Don’t you all have something better to do? Like, oh, I don’t know, build shelters, get firewood, fish – something that will keep everyone alive for at least another day or two?” Jack snapped, glaring at each of them in turn.

“For Christ’s sake, lighten up, Doctor Sarcasm,” Sawyer said, sighing heavily as he rose to his elbows.

“We don’t have _time_ to hang around talking about goddamned rocks! And _who_ would be sitting around talking about rocks, anyway?”

“Geologists?” Sawyer offered, with an angelic smile and a voice full of innocence, and Sayid suddenly had another fit of coughing.

Jack heaved a put-upon sigh. “Everyone get back to work!” he barked over his shoulder as he started striding off.

Sayid sighed and then watched in amusement as Hurley and Charlie fought to disentangle themselves from one another and collapse into breathless heaps on the sand.

“Perhaps we could _all_ hit him with a rock? Take turns?” he suggested, smiling slightly as he looked Sawyer, and again Sawyer snorted and then sighed wearily.

“Nice idea, Sayid, but it might be a good idea to keep his uptight ass alive,” Sawyer said, sighing and wiping at his eyes.

“And rarely have you used my given name. I’m not quite sure what to think about that, either,” Sayid said, still smiling and now looking out over the horizon.

“Well,” Sawyer said, taking in their surroundings. “I was actually glad to see this place again and I have no idea what to think about _that._ Actually kinda startin’ to feel like home, which is scary enough in and of itself.”

“You know, I did not have very high hopes when the raft set sail. I was certain I would never see any of you again,” Sayid said, staring out across the water. “And as badly as I feel for Michael, and as surprised as I am to hear myself saying this, it _is_ good to see you again, Sawyer.”

Sawyer grinned. “And it’s mighty good to be seen.”

“Ah, there’s the Sawyer I know and hate,” Sayid said, nodding in satisfaction. “Good to know things haven’t changed completely.”

“Well, some things have changed,” Sawyer said. “I am fresh outta insulting nicknames. For now, at any rate.”

Sayid smiled. “Small favors.”

“Ooooh, let me try. That never should have been your department anyway, I’m the funny one,” Hurley said eagerly. “How about, Osama . . . Osama . . . Osama Been Tappin’ the Sweetest Piece of Ass on the Island? Huh? Good one, eh?” 

He grinned and waggled his eyebrows and was met with complete silence as Sayid glared and Sawyer looked at him with eyebrows raised while Charlie covered his mouth and stared at the sand.

“Aw, c’mon! _That_ was funny, surely at least _you_ , Sawyer –“

“Not even _I_ would sink that low, brother,” Sawyer said, sighing and shaking his head regretfully.

“Dude, are you _shitting_ me?” Hurley exclaimed in shock. “You’ve gone _way_ lower than that –“

“Well, I don’t know about everyone else, Hurley, but I, for one, am shocked and disgusted!” Charlie exclaimed, poking Hurley hard in the chest. “That’s sexist and chauvinistic – a proper gentleman would never speak of a lady that way!”

 _“'Gentleman'??_ Who you tryin’ to kid, Charlie, when Claire’s not around you’re the biggest pig on the island, worse than Sawyer even, and . . . oh, God, she’s standing right behind me, isn’t she?” Hurley said, sighing and closing his eyes. He flinched when there was a hard tap on his shoulder. 

“If I turn around are you gonna bitch slap me?” Hurley asked, eyes still squeezed shut.

“Guess you’ll just have to turn around and find out, _bitch,”_ Shannon snapped and Hurley opened his eyes, sighed heavily and turned around slowly.

“All right, lay it on me,” Hurley said, cringing slightly and closing his eyes again. “Give it your best shot, I deserve it, I’m a horrible, sexist manpig with MMMMMMMMF!”

Sayid, Sawyer and Charlie stared in stunned silence while Shannon grabbed Hurley and kissed him long and hard before letting him go. He stared at her, eyes wide, and then fell heavily over on to his side as she sauntered away, kicking at Sayid’s foot as she did so. 

“Aren’t you going to like defend my honor or something?” she asked, glaring at Sayid as he glared back.

“What honor?” Sawyer said, smirking, and got a hard smack to the side of the head.

“Fine. Hurley, I hereby challenge you to a duel. You as well, Sawyer,” Sayid said, smiling again and shaking his head as Shannon walked off and winked and waved at him over her shoulder. “And you, Charlie.”

 _“Me?_ What did in the bloody hell did _I_ do?” Charlie asked, putting his hand to his chest.

“It was more what you were thinking,” Sayid said wrapping his arms around his knees. 

“Oh. Right, right,” Charlie said. “Well, I must admit, you got me there.”

“I shall kill you all in the morning,” Sayid said amiably, still watching Shannon as she made her way down the beach.

“You’re on. Rocks to the back of the head at dawn,” Hurley said enthusiastically, righting himself. “I vote we put Shannon in charge – that sure as hell boosted _my_ morale.”

“Bet it boosted a hell of a lot more than that,” Sawyer said, grinning and then he scowled when he saw Jack making his way back in their direction. “Duck and cover, Herr Doctor’s on the warpath.”

“If he mentions that damned manifest I’m usin’ this rock, I swear to God,” Hurley muttered and all four of them watched warily as Jack stalked toward them, arms wide as he glared at them in outrage.

“What in the hell are you doing? Or _not_ doing, I should say – you do realize that . . . fuck,” Jack muttered as he swayed slightly and bent over at the waist, breathing heavily.

“Jack?” Sayid asked, frowning. “You really should get some rest, you’ve done all there is to be done –"

“I’m fine,” Jack snapped, waving him off. “Hurley, go around with the manifest again, we’ve got to –"

“Rock, dudes, I’m serious,” Hurley muttered under his breath through clenched teeth as he tried to kill Jack with his eyeballs.

“Manifest destiny,” Charlie said, nodding, and Sawyer snorted while Hurley snarled and suddenly Sayid stood.

“I’ll check the manifest, Jack. _All_ of us will find something to do,” Sayid said.

“About damned time,” Jack muttered and stalked off again, stopping every few paces to bend over and catch his breath.

When he was finally out of sight Sayid sank gracefully back into the sand. “We might not have to use a rock, he’ll kill himself before we ever get the chance.”

“Dude, if you want manifest duty –“ Hurley said.

“Oh, no,” Sayid said. “I just said that to placate him. I’ve no intention of checking that manifest again, Hurley, you’ve already done it six times.”

 _“Thank you,_ Sayid, at least somebody appreciates my efforts,” Hurley grumbled. “Dudes, seriously, he’s really startin’ to piss me off. ‘My, God, Hurley, the manifest! Hurley, for God’s sake, I’m a doctor, not a . . . manifest guy! Hurley, medications, we . . . need . . . more . . . medications!’”

“You know, Hurley, your impression of Jack sounds a lot more like Captain Kirk than it does Jack,” Charlie observed.

“Sorry, dude, Kirk is the only impression I can do,” Hurley said, rising to his knees in the sand and clenching his fists and staring up at the sky. He took a deep breath. “KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!”

Sawyer snorted while Charlie giggled. “Not bad, big guy,” Sawyer said.

“Yeah, well, I guess in Jack’s case it’d be more like ‘LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCKE!’” Hurley bellowed before pausing for air and speaking again. “And I _am_ with Jack on one thing – Locke’s one freaky ass dude.”

“No shit,” Sawyer said, and then looked over Hurley’s shoulder. “Heads up!”

“Locke? What about Locke?” Jack shouted, staggering toward them. “Why in the hell are you screaming ‘Locke,’ did something happen, what happened, where’s Locke?”

“Oh. Uh. No, no Locke,” Hurley said, grabbing the rock he intended to use to bash Jack’s head in and holding it skyward. “I was screaming ‘ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCK!’”

 _“What?”_ Jack asked while Charlie crawled to hide behind Sawyer and bury his face in Sawyer’s back as he giggled.

“Oh, just a thing I do. Nature worship. Wicca stuff, you didn’t know I’m Wiccan?” Hurley said and Sawyer yelped when Charlie unintentionally grabbed his wounded shoulder in an effort to keep from laughing out loud.

Jack looked at all them, confused and exhausted, and then kicked at Hurley half-heartedly.

“Manifest . . . thingy,” he said before staggering away again

“Nice recovery. You’re _Wicca?”_ Sawyer asked, snickering.

“Shut up, it’s the best I could come up with, besides I had Buffy on the brain. You know, Willow the hot lesbian Wicca? Never mind, never mind. All right, that’s it, I’m starting my own tribe. Tribe Hurley and _I’m_ the Big Kahuna. In my tribe we eat steak and drink beer all day and are surrounded by half-naked babes. Who’s in?”

Sawyer and Charlie immediately raised their hands.

“And those who are playin’ touchy-feely with the sweetest piece of ass on the island can join secretly and without her knowledge,” Hurley added and then rolled over laughing when Sayid’s hand shot up into the air.

“Whipped!” Hurley howled and Charlie and Sawyer dissolved into laughter.

“What?” Sayid asked, puzzled, glaring at each of them in turn. “What? _Whipped what?”_

“Nothin’, Sayid, never mind. All right, I’m callin’ to order the first secret meeting of the Hurley Brotherhood. First order of business, HAIL TO THE CHIEF!” Hurley shouted and hauled himself to his feet and stood and crossed his arms and looked proudly out across the water.

“All hail!” Charlie said enthusiastically. 

“Whatever, Chief, just bring on the steak,” Sawyer said, laying back down and crossing his arms behind his head. “I’m _starvin’.”_

“Hang on, hang on. Second order of business – HIT JACK WITH THIS HUGE ROCK!” Hurley proclaimed.

“Huzzah!” Charlie cheered. “But _I_ get to do it.”

“No way, dude, I told you, I called dibs! And _I’m_ the chief, _I_ get to hit Jack with the rock!” Hurley said.

“Worst chief ever. Worst tribe ever. I quit,” Charlie said and lay back next to Sawyer, mimicking his pose.

“Nobody’s hittin’ him with a fuckin’ _rock,”_ Sawyer grumbled. “There’s gotta be some other way –"

“Um, excuse me?”

All of them sat up and stared as Sun made her way toward them. “I have _already_ hit him with a rock.”

They all stared at her, dumbfounded.

“No, no, I mean, so to speak,” she said, smiling slightly. “In his water bottle, like before? He has not been sleeping and he has been working too hard and so I . . .the medication, like when Kate –"

“Of course,” Sayid said, sighing. “And why did we not think of that?”

“Because we were too busy talkin’ about sex and steak and _rocks,”_ Sawyer muttered, kicking at the sand.

“Sun, when will it start to affect him?” Sayid asked.

“Soon. Someone should be with him when it happens, perhaps take him elsewhere for the next day or two so that he might rest?” she said, and then paused for a moment. “And so the rest of us might rest as well?”

Hurley stared at her for a moment and then tackled her, declaring his undying love for her over and over until she managed to squirm from underneath him and run away, blushing.

Sawyer snorted as he watched. “Jesus, that boy’s gotten more action in one day than the rest of us combined,” he muttered and Charlie scowled in agreement.

“Aside from me, you mean,” Sayid said, smirking just slightly. “Come on, we should go find him.”

Sawyer sighed and then hauled himself to his feet. “Let’s go hunt us down some doctor,” he said.

 

***

“ . . . and so, Jack, I was thinking . . . that . . . perhaps . . .”

Sayid paused, staring at Jack carefully as he fought to keep his eyes from crossing.

“Wha?” Jack slurred, staggering and shaking his head and rubbing at his eyes. “Sayid, you’re talking . . . in circles . . . hang on a minute.” Jack bent forward and braced his hands on his knees, breathing deeply.

“What in the hell are you tryin’ to do, bore him to death?” Sawyer muttered.

“I’m trying to bore him to _sleep,_ ” Sayid whispered, and then sighed.

“Well, it’s workin’ on _me,”_ Sawyer said yawning widely.

“On me, as well,” Sayid said. “The medication should have taken effect by now, he’s fighting it with everything he has – “

Sayid stopped suddenly when Hurley stepped out of the jungle behind Jack, rock hefted high above his head as he looked from Sawyer to Sayid, nodding furiously. Sayid glowered and waved him off and mouthed the word ‘No!’ just as Jack turned around in a lazy, off-centered circle.

“Hurley?” he said. “What –“

“Just makin’ an altar, don’t mind me,” Hurley said, lowering the rock to cradle it carefully and pretending to walk off as Sayid again tried to get Jack’s attention. Hurley glared at Sawyer over Jack’s shoulder and tossed the rock to the side and tapped at his watch.

Sawyer shrugged and Hurley sighed and rolled his eyes as Sayid continued with the slow, monotonous repetition of nonsense he’d been using for the past half hour as they tried to keep Jack in one place as they waited for the drug to take effect.

Suddenly Charlie appeared from nowhere with a look of crazed glee on his face as he snatched up the rock and held it high, running full tilt toward Jack. Sawyer and Sayid both cursed and started to move but Hurley, outraged, grabbed the rock and yanked hard, spinning Charlie around as he did so.

“Charlie, don’t you _dare,_ I told you, _I_ called dibs!” he hissed, and then he noticed that Jack was again looking at him in confusion. “I . . . uh, called dibs on this rock which is a holy artifact and sacred to my people.”

Charlie looked from the rock to Hurley to Jack and then back to Hurley. 

“Right, right, of course. I was just, you know, returnin’ it to you, you dropped it,” Charlie said. He patted the rock lightly. “Amen.”

Sayid sighed a pained sigh and Sawyer turned on his heel and walked away several paces before dropping to his knees and burying his face in his hands, laughing so hard he was crying.

“Sawyer?” Jack mumbled. “You . . . all right?”

Sawyer took a deep breath. “Fine, Doc, just . . . offerin’ up a little prayer to the God of fuckin’ _Rocks,”_ he said over his shoulder before sighing and getting to his feet and returning to stand beside Sayid and Charlie as Hurley again took up his position behind Jack, pointing at Charlie threateningly, who stuck out his tongue when he thought Jack wasn’t looking.

 _“What?”_ Jack said. “You guys have . . . God . . . been hanging around Locke or something!”

“No, of course not, Jack, now please, listen to me carefully, this is very important, I was thinking that . . . perhaps . . . ah, there he goes,” Sayid whispered.

Sawyer watched through narrowed eyes as Jack surrendered, eyes crossing and then closing as his entire body began to give out. Sawyer put a hand to either side of his mouth and whispered “Timber!” loudly, which was immediately followed by the sound of Jack’s body hitting the ground.

Sayid sighed as he looked down at Jack and then up at Hurley. “Hurley. You were supposed to _catch_ him.”

Hurley looked down at Jack, whose head now rested on his feet, then back up at Sayid and Sawyer. “Oh. Guess I missed,” he said. “My bad. Oopsie?”

“For God’s sake, you do hold a grudge, don’t you, boy?” Sawyer said, hand over his mouth to cover a grin.

“No, that big ol’ THUD he made when he hit the ground took care of it. Almost as satisfying as the rock to the head idea. I’m over it now, all manifest bitchiness is hereby forgotten,” Hurley said cheerfully, bending over to grab Jack underneath one shoulder.

“Right,” Sayid said, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s get him as far away from camp as possible.”

***

“Right here,” Sawyer said breathlessly and they all let go at once, leaving Jack facedown in a heap on the ground as they all fought to catch their breaths. “Jesus, whose bright idea was it to carry him up a goddamned mountain?” 

_“Yours,”_ chorused Sayid, Charlie and Hurley as they started a small fire in the clearing next to a stream-filled pool and Sayid tossed two packs beside it.

“Oh. Right. My bad,” Sawyer grumbled. _“Oopsie.”_

“Hey, um, dude? You should _never_ say ‘my bad.’ Or ‘oopsie.’ One – you’re too old and two? It lowers your cool factor like a gazillion points,” Hurley said breathlessly.

 _“Too old?_ Now just what in the hell is _that_ supposed to mean? I say ‘my bad’ all the time!” Sawyer snapped.

“I know, and you shouldn’t, you’re too old. You never wanna hear your mom talk about sex or old people tryin’ to be hip,” Hurley said, shrugging. “It’s embarrassing.”

 _“Old people?”_ Sawyer spluttered, glaring. “Just how old do you think I _am?”_

“I dunno – 45?”

 _“What?"_ Sawyer barked, and Sayid turned away to hide a grin.

“Dude, this isn’t the return of redneck hick asshole guy, is it?” Hurley asked. “‘Cause that would seriously suck hard.”

“Return? He never fuckin’ left, you dumbass!” Sawyer yelled.

“Yeah, he did.”

“No, he didn’t!”

“Yeah, he did.”

“No, he damn well did not!”

“He did, too, I saw him, he sailed away on a bamboo raft with his hair in a stupid-lookin’ half-assed ponytail and then got shot by ghosts or somethin’. And now he’s talkin’ about himself in the third person, which is _really_ lame,” Hurley said, and Charlie snickered while Sayid again tried to hide a grin and failed miserably.

“That’s it, I am gonna kill you so hard they’re gonna have to bury you _twice,”_ Sawyer growled and started to make a move.

Hurley dropped to his knees and looked skyward. 

“Oh, God of Fuckin’ Rocks, please be with me in my time of need, don’t let redneck asshole guy hurt me . . . seriously, dude, don’t hit me!” Hurley yelled and then dove into the underbrush.

Sawyer smirked in satisfaction. “Not too old to knock the everlovin’ shit outta you, _dude,_ and don’t you fuckin’ forget it.” 

“Don’t say ‘dude,’ either. _Way_ not cool,” came the retort from the jungle. “Whoa! Sweet view! You can see every fire in the camp, from the beach all the way up to the caves.”

“Yeah, well,” Sawyer said, collapsing to the ground and wiping at his forehead with his shirt sleeve. “Figured if I was drawin’ Doc-sittin’ duty for the next two days it may as well be someplace nice.”

“Nice choice, old man.”

Sawyer sighed in exasperation and ran both hands through his hair.

“Hurley, quit annoying redneck hick asshole guy and let’s go,” Sayid said and they all looked at him in surprise.

“What?” he said. “Is there some problem?”

“Uh, Sayid?” said Hurley as he struggled out from the underbrush. “Were you here for that whole certain people should just not say certain things conversation?”

“Are you suggesting that I’m too old to say ‘redneck hick asshole guy?’” Sayid asked, lowering his voice menacingly and smiling a very cold smile.

“Now, don’t go all National Guard on me, you scare me when you do that,” Hurley said, holding up his hands in surrender.

 _“Republican_ Guard, you idiot,” Sayid muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Right, that’s what I said. And no, you’re not too old to say ‘redneck hick asshole guy,’ you’re too . . . um, _elegant._ And foreign. Elegant foreign guys with accents who don’t even drop their Gs and rarely use contractions shouldn’t say things like ‘redneck hick asshole guy,’ it just sounds weird,” Hurley said.

 _“What?_ He gets ‘elegant’ and I get _‘old?’”_ Sawyer snapped.

“Dude, he’s got that National Guard shit, _you_ know that better than anyone, what the hell am I supposed to say?” Hurley hissed.

“All right, all right, that’s quite enough for one evening, I should think,” Sayid said, sighing. “And I would point out, Hurley, that we are _all_ foreigners here, but frankly, I am much too tired.”

“Me, too,” Charlie said. “And I’ve got to get back, I’ve got Turniphead Patrol. Claire gets awfully cranky when she doesn’t get her sleep.”

“Whipped!”

Sawyer snorted and Charlie scowled, crossing his arms.

“Ah, so that’s what ‘whipped’ means. Bamboo for you, Hurley,” Sayid said.

“Uh, what now?”

“Bamboo. When you least expect it,” Sayid said. “Sawyer, when you return perhaps you could assist me?”

“Why, I’d be happy to,” Sawyer smirked. “I’ll hit him on the back of the head with a sacred fuckin’ rock and tie him to a holy tree.”

“Oh, can I watch?” Charlie asked, grinning and bouncing up and down on his toes.

“Certainly,” Sayid said. “Perhaps we could make a day of it, pack a lunch?”

“Stop it. _So_ not funny,” Hurley said, glaring at each one of them.

Sawyer ignored him. “It’s a date. But right now? My hick redneck asshole guy ass is gonna try to get some sleep.”

“That reminds me, Sun wanted me to give you these,” Sayid said quietly, bending over Sawyer and putting four white pills in his hand. “Two for Jack and two for you. She said she noticed that you haven’t been sleeping, either.”

Sawyer met Sayid’s eyes briefly in the gloom and then he closed his hand around the pills and pocketed them. “Tell her I said thanks,” he murmured and Sayid touched him briefly on the shoulder before standing upright.

“We should get back. I’ll gather everyone together, give them some explanation for Jack’s absence. Tell them to rest for the next two days,” Sayid said.

“If we’re not back by then, we’ve killed each other,” Sawyer said. Then he looked around warily. “Or . . . somethin’ else will have.”

Sayid smiled slightly. “You’ll be fine. Food and water are in the packs, and if what I hear clinking around in your pockets is what I think it is, perhaps you can convince Jack not to kill you if you share it with him.”

“That’s the plan, Osama Been Tappin’ –"

“Don’t say that either,” Hurley said, sighing and shaking his head. “You’re just too old, dude, sorry.”

Sawyer snarled and made a move and Hurley shrieked melodramatically and ran, disappearing down the path and crashing through the jungle as he went.

“Too old my _ass,_ ” Sawyer growled and nodded in acknowledgment as Sayid and Charlie saluted before disappearing into the jungle.

He looked over his shoulder to see that Jack was still in a crumpled heap facedown on the ground, and he sighed and laid back, resolving to go straighten him out once he’d rested for a second.

“They gone?”

Sawyer jumped and then sighed and sat back up, digging a tiny bottle of whiskey from his pocket and dropping one of the pills into it and shaking it slightly.

“Yeah, they’re gone, and I can’t fuckin’ _believe_ you’re awake already, you’ve got the constitution of a goddamned mule,” Sawyer muttered.

“Hard to . . . you know, sleep? Yeah, sleep. When people keep dropping you on your face. Bad for . . . that sleep thing,” Jack mumbled. “And I am not a mule . . . I am a . . . fuck, you guys broke my mouth or something . . . I am a thoroughbred, yeah.” He hauled himself halfway to a sitting position and leaned forward heavily.

“Yep,” Sawyer said, watching carefully in the light of the fire as the pill dissolved. “You’re a thoroughbred, all right – nervous, high-strung and great at runnin’ around in circles.”

“Shut up. I just need a stable pony, _you_ can be my stable pony. You are now my stable pony, I said so, I’m the leader so it must be true. Pony.” Jack pointed somewhere slightly to Sawyer’s left and then collapsed again.

“I am _not_ your fuckin’ stable pony!” Sawyer yelled, glaring at Jack over his shoulder.

“Pony. Pony pony pony pony pony. _Come here!”_

Sawyer grinned. “So you _did_ miss me. Startin’ to wonder, Doc, you haven’t said a word to me since I got back, except to yell at me to ‘get to work.’”

“Nope. No mississing. Not one little bit, you bastard. COME HERE!”

“That mean you’re glad to see me?”

“Nope. Hate you. COME HERE ALREADY I CAN’T FUCKING MOVE, YOU BASTARDS DOSED-DED ME _AGAIN!”_

“Can’t move but you can sure as hell yell like a motherfucker. And it was for your own damned good. _And_ everyone else’s.”

“Fuck off AND COME HERE BEFORE I KILL YOU!”

“Sure know how to sweet talk a boy.”

“God. Never mind. Never liked you anyway. Stupid. You. Stupid. Hateyouhateyouhateyouhateyouhateyouhate. YOU. Like I didn’t have enough to worry about, stupid raft, stupid fucking getting shot, stupid stupid stupid. I’M TALKING ABOUT _YOU,_ SAWYER STABLE PONY, IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING! I hope you die. Right now. And everyone else, I hope they all _die_. Actually _I_ could make them die. I think I will, I’ll make everyone die while I move to Spain. Stop laughing, you fuckhead, I’m gonna do it, just you watch. Watch while you _DIE!”_

“So now you’re plannin’ mass murder?” Sawyer asked, taking one last look at the whiskey bottle before turning and crawling toward Jack.

“Yep. You first,” Jack mumbled, the side of his face smashed into the ground and ass in the air as he watched Sawyer blearily. “Then I’ll move to Spain.”

Sawyer grinned. “Well, I’ve never been to Spain/ But I kinda like the music/ Say the ladies are insane there/ And they sure know how to use it . . .”

Jack struggled to roll over on to his back. “THEY DON’T ABUSE IT/ NEVER GONNA LOSE IT/ I CAN’T REFUSE IT/ WELL, I’VE NEVER BEEN TO HEAVEN/ BUT I’VE BEEN TO OKLAHOMAAAAAAAA MMMMMMMF!” 

Sawyer winced as he clapped a hand over Jack’s mouth and sat astride his hips. “Doc, you couldn’t carry a tune in _two_ buckets,” he said, grinning down at him as Jack glared back.

“Can, too. Shut up. Come here,” Jack whispered.

“I’m here,” Sawyer said.

“No, _here_ ,” Jack muttered and managed to fling one arm around Sawyer’s neck and pull him close. 

“Here?” Sawyer whispered, lips brushing lightly against Jack’s as Jack sighed and his eyes closed.

“Yep,” Jack whispered and then Sawyer kissed him, teasingly at first and then more eagerly as Jack responded hungrily, mouth hot and wet and demanding, tongue sliding along Sawyer’s and teeth biting sharply at his lower lip.

Sawyer pulled back slightly and they stared at one another for a long moment.

“Why did you go?” Jack whispered.

“Why didn’t you ask me to stay?” Sawyer said, and he felt Jack shift underneath him and watched him fight for the words and then he was kissing Jack again, harder and longer.

“Never mind,” he whispered. “I’m here now.”

“Good. More now, now now NOW!”

Sawyer grinned. “Bossy son of a bitch.”

“Follow the leader, asshole. And quit talking, more with the . . . you know, the mouth thing. Kissing.”

“Whatever you say, chief.”

“Damn straight.”

“You know, you’re _way_ too old to try to be hip, it’s –“

“Shut up, fucking Hurley, I’m gonna kill him with a Jesus rock from God or Buddha or something. KISSING NOW!”

***

Sayid, Sawyer and Hurley had only gone a few paces when the yelling started.

“Holy crap!” Hurley said, pulling up. “He’s awake _already?”_

“Apparently so,” Sayid said. “Come along, we need to get back to camp.”

“Well, shouldn’t we go back? I mean, if he’s already awake, what if he gets a weird adrenaline rush and throws Sawyer off the cliff or something? He’s _really_ tweaked, dude, listen to that!” Hurley said.

“I’m certain Sawyer can take care of himself, now let’s go,” Sayid said, nudging both Charlie and Hurley back in the direction of the camp.

“Dude, this isn’t some kind of set-up, is it? You tryin’ to get one or the other of ‘em killed?” Hurley asked, eyes narrowed.

Sayid sighed heavily and shoved his hair back. “Hurley. I’m a veteran of the ‘National Guard.’ If I wanted either of them dead they would _be_ dead,” he said wearily.

 _“Republican_ Guard,” Hurley corrected.

“Yes, yes, now let’s go,” Sayid said and shoved them both hard down the path.

“Wait. Hold on,” Charlie said, cocking his head. “Listen.”

Sayid sighed and clapped a hand over his eyes.

“What _is_ that?” Hurley said.

“It’s . . . Three Dog Night, _Never Been to Spain,”_ Charlie said, listening carefully. “Must be Sawyer. Not bad, not bad at all, you know he’s got a lovely speaking voice when he’s not threatenin’ to kill you . . . oh, bollocks!”

“What? What?” Hurley asked, frantic now. “If either of those guys winds up dead I’ll never forgive either one of you!”

Sayid collapsed to the ground beside the pathway and buried his face in his hands.

“God, that must be Jack. Terrible. Remind me never to invite him to sing a duet, God, that’s bloody _awful_ ,” Charlie said, wincing.

Sayid shot to his feet. “It cannot be that bad if they are singing, so come along now, we really should get back,” he said, again attempting to shove both Charlie and Hurley down the path.

“Uh oh,” Hurley said. “It stopped. OH MY GOD THEY JUST KILLED EACH OTHER! THIS IS _SO_ NOT MY FAULT, YOURS AND YOURS!”

“Bloody hell, no way!” Charlie said and darted back up the path before Sayid could stop him.

Sayid sighed in defeat and leaned up against a tree.

“Well? Aren’t you gonna go hide the bodies?” Hurley demanded.

“I do not think that would go over well at this point,” Sayid said.

 _“What?”_ Hurley asked.

“Oh, dear. Ohdearohdearohdearohdearohdear,” Charlie muttered as he came scuttling back down the path.

 _“WHAT?_ ARE THEY DEAD? OH MY GOD WE _KILLED_ JACK AND SAWYER!” Hurley bellowed, yanking at his hair with both hands.

Sayid slapped him lightly and Hurley stared at him in shock. “Dude, did you just _slap_ me?”

“Yes, _dude,_ I did. You’re hysterical. Charlie, tell Hurley what you saw and then neither of you will _ever_ speak of it again,” Sayid snapped.

“Uh, well, all right . . .” Charlie said, shifting uncomfortably.

 _“What?_ Were they tryin’ to kill each other?” Hurley demanded.

“Well, uh, if they were, then they were goin’ about it in completely the wrong manner, unless it’s possible to kill someone by stickin’ your tongue down their throat,” Charlie said. “And I don’t think that it is, is it, Sayid?”

“Well, technically . . . never mind. Now, we all know they are both alive and well, so let us go and leave them in peace,” Sayid said.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute, WAIT JUST A GODDAMNED MINUTE! Charlie, did you . . . or did you not . . . JUST TELL ME THAT JACK AND SAWYER WERE _MAKIN’ OUT???”_ Hurley shouted, stunned and stumbling around in circles.

“Um, yes, I believe I did,” Charlie said. “Movin’ on now, here we go . . .”

“And _you!”_ Hurley said, pointing at Sayid accusingly. “You _knew?”_

Sayid sighed. “Listen to me, Hurley. You as well, Charlie. I will say this only once, and if the tiniest of whispers of it gets back to me from anywhere, I will not hesitate to kill you, either of you, do you understand me?”

“Uh . . . yeah?”

“They’ve been involved for a while now. Neither of them are aware that I know, I happened to see them one night, quite by accident,” Sayid said.

“Doin’ what?” Hurley asked, mouth still hanging open in shock.

Sayid sighed. “Do you _really_ want me to describe it in detail, Hurley?”

 _“NO!_ No, no, not necessary,” Hurley said, shaking his head vehemently.

“Thank the Fuckin’ Rock Gods,” Sayid muttered, casting his gaze toward heaven.

“Dude, what did I say about you sayin’ stuff you just shouldn’t say? C’mon, catch me a break, I’m tryin’ to deal, here!” Hurley muttered. “So, they’ve been involved for a while.”

“At least since Boone died,” Sayid said.

“And . . . then Sawyer left on the raft. And . . . none of us thought we’d see any of them _ever again._ EVER! And . . . that musta been kinda rough on Jack. And . . . suddenly Sawyer’s back after Jack thinks he’d never see him again and Jack goes all Nazi on us and then _you,_ Sayid,” Hurley said, starting to grin now. _“You,_ Sayid, play Republican Guard matchmaker and assign Sawyer to babysit Jack.”

“Well, I . . . simply thought that perhaps they could, aherm, use the time together, that is all,” Sayid said, avoiding Hurley’s eyes.

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God. OH. MY. GOD. SAYID THAT IS SO _SWEET!”_ Hurley said, wrapping his arms around Sayid and lifting him up off the ground in a huge bear hug.

“Stop it! Hurley, put me down!” Sayid snapped.

“Aww. That is rather romantic of you, Sayid, well done,” Charlie said, smiling and clapping Sayid on the shoulder.

“Hurley, put me down or I swear I will kill you where you stand, I can do it, you know!” Sayid said and Hurley dropped him.

“Huh. Jack and Sawyer. Well, I’m an open-minded dude of the 21st Century and whatever floats your boat, that’s what I say. Or sinks your raft, as the case may be. But c’mon, Sayid, I gotta tell _someone_ , you know me, this dirt is way too good to keep to myself, help me out here,” Hurley said, grinning.

Sayid sighed and shook his head and thought about it. “Jin!” he said, poking Hurley in the chest. “You can tell Jin _everything._ ”

“Perfect! And we’ll all live happily ever after!” Hurley said and started barreling down the pathway screaming Jin’s name.

“This is _absolutely_ the oddest day I’ve had on this island,” Sayid said wearily.

“That’s sayin’ quite a lot, considerin’ some of the days you’ve had,” Charlie said. “Come along, you old softie, us boys that are whipped have got women to get home to.”

“I _am_ going to torture him,” Sayid said, glaring after Hurley.

“Sure you are,” Charlie said, laughing.

“I will!”

“Right, right.”

“This has totally ruined my reputation, hasn’t it?”

“Absolutely. You comin’ along or what?” Charlie asked, grinning.

Sayid sighed. “Of course. Shannon is already going to be angry enough as it is.”

***

Sawyer pulled back from a kiss that had his head spinning and his body aflame and met Jack’s eyes in the amber light of the fire, a look that was difficult to take and said much more than he was able to handle after all that had happened in recent weeks, hell, in his entire fuckin’ lifetime, he thought. So he tried to ignore it, sighed and shoved the hair out of his face and then ran one hand down Jack’s cheek and over his neck and then slid his hand under the collar of his t-shirt to wander further.

“Sht-sht-stop that. NO WAIT NEVER MIND NO DON’T STOP! If you stop I’ll kill you! Don’t stop, keep doing it over and over and over again but just you remember, you ass . . . um . . . _hole,_ that you can’t seduce _me_ out of doing what I’ve gotta do, you ass. . . _fuckdamnshit_ . . . _hole,_ right, _hole._ This doesn’t change one damn thing . . . you . . . _ASSHOLE STABLE PONY!_ Once this shit wears off I’m still gonna get up and go back and do the damned _leader_ thing – I have to, I’m the stupid _leader,”_ Jack mumbled and rolled his eyes, more than a bit of bitterness and whine combined with the slurring and he glared up at Sawyer who smiled back at him lazily. “And _then,_ I’m gonna kill everyone. Especially _Hurley,_ that rock worshiping bastard. _Hate_ him. Wicca, who in the hell does he think he’s kidding? Hate him. _Wicca._ Pffffft!”

“Oh, you do _not_ hate Hurley,” Sawyer snorted and then sat back, dug the dosed whiskey bottle out of his pocket and dangled it tantalizingly in Jack’s face, whose eyes began to darken and cross as he followed its movements. “Besides, you’re officially in exile for the next two days. The tribe has spoken.”

 _“’The tribe has spoken?’_ – pfffft, lame, you can do better than _that_ and where’d you get that? Gimme!” Jack grabbed the bottle out of Sawyer’s hand and downed it in one gulp and then grimaced. “Sonofabitch. You just fucking dosed-ded me _AGAIN,_ didn’t you? That’s _three_ times, I swear to _God,_ I hate every single one of you. Diediediediediediediediediiieee and . . . um . . . ohhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh. Ohhhhhhhhh. _God,_ that feels . . . you know . . . _good._ Really . . . really . . . really . . . really . . . really . . . _GOOD.”_ Jack closed his eyes and groaned, and then sighed and then stretched as hard as he could.

“Yep. That’s the point,” Sawyer said, smiling slightly and moving so that he rested atop Jack completely, feeling it as Jack relaxed and became practically boneless, and Sawyer settled heavily atop him and propped himself up on his right elbow, watching as the lines of tension disappeared slowly from Jack’s face and noticed how he suddenly looked younger, like a man who maybe, in a different life, had laughed hard and had loved even harder and had spent every minute of his life making the most of it.

Sawyer felt a twinge of regret. Not so here and not so before the crash, if the conversations they’d had were any indication. He reached out again and ran the tips of his fingers across Jack’s face, and Jack sighed and opened his eyes and stared at Sawyer through the flickering light of the fire as Sawyer’s fingers continued to brush lightly against Jack’s mouth.

“You, too,” Jack whispered and Sawyer looked at him in question.

“Me, too, what?” he asked quietly.

“Take one of those damned Atavan.”

“Is that what those are?” Sawyer asked, fumbling in his pocket.

Jack rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “You didn’t even _know_ what you were giving me? I bet you all were trying to _kill_ me – well, that’s just fine, I have foiled your evil scheme ha- _HA!”_

Sawyer sighed and didn’t bother to correct him. “Yep, you foiled our evil scheme by actin’ like a complete asshole and then bein’ completely unconscious.”

“Shut up. Take ‘em. Two, even, then the shtu- . . . shtu- . . . _stupid_ whiskey,” Jack ordered. He frowned, peering at Sawyer closely. “You look like shit. You feeling okay? I should’ve checked you out sooner, you look like _shit._ You feeling okay? Seriously, like _shit._ Really really really really really really bad. Like shit.”

“‘Like shit.’ That a medical term?” Sawyer muttered, rolling his eyes. “Sun said I’m fine. I _feel_ fine.”

“Liar,” Jack whispered and then shivered slightly as Sawyer’s fingers continued trailing lightly across Jack’s mouth and face. He shifted underneath Sawyer awkwardly, a movement that even so brought the fire raging fully in Sawyer’s veins. _So long,_ he thought as he closed his eyes, and after he’d been convinced that it would never happen again.

“Nope,” Jack murmured regretfully even as his tongue darted out to caress Sawyer’s fingertips. “Can’t. Want to, _can’t,_ can’t feel anything from my . . . mouth? Mouth, yeah, can’t feel anything from my mouth down,” Jack whispered, even though his eyes were black with need. Then he looked away and frowned, eyes rolling around in their sockets as he seemed to consider something. “Can’t feel anything from my mouth _up.”_

“No shit,” Sawyer murmured as he smiled slightly and continued his light caress against Jack’s lips. “I’ve got somethin’ I could stick in that mouth, shut you up for a while –“

“ShutupandtaketheAtavanandthewhiskey,” Jack sighed. “And then roll over.”

“Roll _over?”_ Sawyer asked, grinning suddenly. “Thought you couldn’t feel anything from that loudass mouth down.”

“Bugs.”

Sawyer frowned. “Bugs?”

“I HATE BUGS YOU KNOW THAT AND THERE’S NO BEDROLL YOU ARE MY BEDROLL SO SHUT UP AND TAKE THE ATATATAVAN AND ROLL OVER!” Jack bellowed before falling back again into his limp, relaxed state.

Sawyer sighed and rolled his eyes. “We’ve _got_ fuckin’ bedrolls –“

“Don’tcareyouaremybedrollanddowhatItellyoumyprettylittlestablepony.” Jack muttered, his eyes now closed again.

“You keep that stable pony shit up and _I’ll_ fuckin’ kill _you,”_ Sawyer growled, glaring, and Jack managed through his drugged and alcoholic haze to heave up one arm and settle one hand awkwardly on top of Sawyer’s head and pat heavily as Sawyer scowled.

“Oh. Eeeek. I am _so_ scared – Sawyer the Badass who cried watching ‘Old Yeller.’”

“Knock that shit off! I never said that I cried watchin, ‘Old Yeller,’ _I_ don’t cry, _you_ are the one that bawls at the drop of a goddamned hat,” Sawyer barked, flushing. 

“Besides, it was ‘The Yearling,’” he added beneath his breath, scowling.

“What _ever_ , same thing. Nope. Know better now. Myprettylittlepony,” Jack whispered, eyes still closed. He paused for a moment. _“Beautiful.”_

Sawyer had heard it before, time and again, and from so many other people aside from Jack but at that word, especially the way Jack said it, or the times he whispered it, growled it as he came, every muscle in Sawyer’s body loosened, a feeling he hadn’t felt in weeks, and he sighed in defeat, digging another bottle of whiskey out of his pocket and swallowing both pills before chasing them with the liquor.

“Happy now?” he muttered as he moved to rest his chin on Jack’s chest.

“Almost. _Bugs,”_ Jack whispered.

“Yeah. Right,” Sawyer grumbled. “All the other shit that’s goin’ on around here, we wouldn’t want the fuckin’ _bugs_ to get you.”

 _“Hate_ bugs. Ewww. Creepy,” Jack mumbled and then shuddered and Sawyer sighed and sat up, wincing as he shrugged out of his shirt and spread it on the ground beneath him.

“Sawyer . . .” Jack whispered, his eyes on the bandage on Sawyer’s shoulder and Sawyer grabbed him by the jaw.

“Don’t. It’s fine,” he murmured and then he heaved with some effort and a great deal of pain to his left shoulder to get Jack’s lax body on top of him completely. Jack shifted and fumbled and flailed for what seemed, to Sawyer at least, an irritatingly long time until he found a comfortable position, his thighs between Sawyer’s and his face buried against the side of Sawyer’s neck.

“Safe now? From the evil island bugs? _Ewwww!_ Jesus, there’s a huge one right there!” Sawyer whispered mockingly, as his fingertips skittered teasingly along the length of Jack’s back and he muffled a laugh when Jack jumped.

“Stop. You suck. Not funny,” Jack mumbled.

 _“I_ thought it was funny as hell,” Sawyer murmured, the drug and the whiskey quickly working is his system, and that combined with Jack heavy on top of him sent a heady warmth seeping through him that he couldn’t remember having ever felt before. “You finally comfortable there, Chief?”

“Mmmf,” Jack whispered against Sawyer’s neck.

“That a yes?”

“Mmmf. Shoulder?”

“Fine.”

“Liar. I’ll look at it tomorrow,” Jack mumbled.

“Fine, fine, whatever,” Sawyer murmured and then, without thinking, one arm was wrapped around tight around Jack’s neck and the other around his waist. Never had he done this, touched Jack in a way that wasn’t teasing or sexual but this seemed right, natural, easy. He held on more tightly and Jack groaned softly

“Mmmmf. Better,” Jack whispered, before nuzzling into the base of Sawyer’s throat and then staying there as he began to snore softly.

“Yeah,” Sawyer sighed, surrendering to the losing battle of keeping his own eyes open. “Better.”

He was thinking there was no way in hell he’d ever sleep like this, Jack heavy against his chest and probably drooling down his neck.

But he was cold, a cold that ached down to his soul and his heart ever since a bullet had knocked him into the ocean, a teeth-shattering and bone brittle chill that had enveloped him even before that. 

It was nice to be warm for a while, he thought drowsily.

And then the black velvet blanket of sleep slid over him for the first time in a long time and all thought was gone.

***

He’d always had nightmares but now they had changed. 

Now, the bullet that killed his mother had become the same bullet that killed his father, and it was that same bullet which had killed a stranger in Sydney and the same bullet that had knocked him off the raft and into the ocean, binding all four of them across decades by blood and by death.

Then the scene would shift and he was back in Sydney, in the rain, and the man he’d just shot was not a stranger but his father, who laughed bitterly as he bled out. _This was all your fault, boy, you know that, don’t you? It all happened because of you._

And then he was back in the ocean again and not searching for Michael or Jin but for his mother, who looked at him accusingly when he was unable to save her, and he shouted for her as she sank slowly beneath the water and he heard her voice in his mind _Why did you do this, James, why did let this happen?_

Then the water roiled and he saw fins and blood and the sound of his mother screaming, her voice soon muffled by the suffocating depths of the ocean.

 

***

He awoke, gasping, feeling as he were drowning himself now under the weight against his chest and he panicked, struck out, but then his hands were pinned and he struggled even harder.

“Sawyer. Stop it, wake up. Sawyer, you’re here, it’s me. Wake up. I’ve got you.”

Sawyer opened his eyes to see Jack hovering above him, eyes black in the glow of the dying fire and he wondered if this was a new part of the nightmare, safety and reunion that would immediately be ripped away, that soon he’d back in the ocean watching his mother die or back in Sydney killing his father.

He felt himself breathing heavily as both hands gripped Jack’s shoulders tightly and Jack was warm and solid underneath his touch and in spite of himself he was whispering frantically, words falling over words as he told Jack what had happened, not the facts but the feelings, fear and dread and determination and regret. Jack looked at him, watched him, listened and nodded his understanding, his eyes bright now with unshed tears as one hand went to Sawyer’s hair.

“I know, I know. Never again, Sawyer, not if I can help it, I swear to God. I’ve got you,” Jack whispered again, sliding one forearm underneath Sawyer’s neck to pillow his head and Sawyer looked at him even though he knew that doing so would hurt, knew the look on his own face was one of fear and need and he found himself unable to pull the walls back up no matter how hard he tried and he hated it, this feeling of vulnerability.

“Don’t,” Jack murmured, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded and knowing. “Just don’t.”

Then he slid to the ground on Sawyer’s side, keeping one arm under Sawyer’s head while the other went to the fly of Sawyer’s jeans and again Sawyer’s eyes closed and his body shook in anticipation and when Jack’s warm hand closed around him, moving in slow, firm strokes Sawyer gasped and jumped slightly, blood pounding and heart racing.

“All right?” Jack whispered, his breath hot in Sawyer’s ear and Sawyer shuddered.

“God, _yes,”_ he hissed, hips moving slightly as he thrust against the rhythm of Jack’s hand which had become quicker, and Jack’s mouth was wet and hot against his ear and then slid slowly down his neck, biting sharply and licking lightly in turn and Sawyer moaned and turned his head, wrapping one hand around Jack’s neck and kissing him hard as the fire in his body began to gather low and coil deep in his belly, and then he tore his mouth away and gritted his teeth as he groaned.

“Look at me, Sawyer,” Jack murmured, voice completely different now, low and rough and Sawyer turned his head and met Jack’s eyes, so much there that he’d seen before in others’ eyes but had never actually believed it, but this he believed and as much as it scared him his body quickened and he wondered what it was about this, about seeing Jack look at him this way, that made his skin electrified and the whole of his body weak and warm.

“Quit thinking. Let go,” Jack whispered and the strokes of his hand became firmer and more demanding and soon Sawyer was writhing under Jack’s touch and the look in his eyes and the hot and heavy feeling throughout his body intensified.

 _“Jesus,_ God, don’t stop . . . _Christ,”_ he snarled, head falling back over Jack’s arm and hair brushing the dirt as his jaw clenched and his body began to move of its own accord.

“I won’t,” Jack whispered and again his breath was hot and wet in Sawyer’s ear as he said everything that Sawyer both loved and feared to hear and then all was feeling and throbbing and sensation and Sawyer groaned again as his body arched high off the ground, planting one foot flat one the ground as the heel of the other dug into the dirt, coming hard with an intensity borne of deprivation and need and loss and grief and joy, and he whispered Jack’s name brokenly when he finally collapsed back on to the ground, hand wrapped again wrapped Jack’s neck tightly.

“Beautiful,” Jack was whispering over and over again and at that moment Sawyer ceased his battle with that word when it was spoken by Jack and he sighed heavily, catching his breath before he started to slide one hand down Jack’s body to stroke the hard-on he felt nudging at his hip.

“Later,” Jack murmured, as he caught Sawyer’s hand and stopped him and Sawyer looked at him in dazed confusion.

“You’re exhausted, Sawyer. Go back to sleep,” Jack whispered and was again on top of him, one hand in his hair and beard rough and mouth soft against his face, and before Sawyer could protest he was asleep again and this time it was deep and black and dreamless.

***

Sawyer woke slowly, stretched and yawned and then looked at Jack blearily. “The sun’s not even up and you’re drinkin’ already?” he asked, eyeing the three empty bottles tossed haphazardly on the ground.

“If the sun’s not up then it’s still night so it’s okay.” He tossed another bottle to Sawyer who downed it quickly and then rolled over on to his side and propped his head on his hand.

“Sounds like _my_ kinda logic. You lookin’ for somethin’?”

“Hungry,” Jack muttered as he dug through one of the packs. 

“Maybe McHatch delivers,” Sawyer suggested and Jack scowled.

“I’m not eating anything out of that stupid hatch. I hate that hatch, I’m gonna kill it, too. Can you kill hatches?” Jack grumbled and Sawyer rolled his eyes and continued to watch Jack fumble through the pack, throwing its contents to the side as he did so. He pulled something out and frowned. “What the hell is this?”

He threw it to Sawyer who took one look at it and flushed and clapped one hand over his eyes. “What in the hell does it look like?” he mumbled, setting it to the side.

“Lotion. Awfully presumptuous of you, I’m not _that_ easy,” Jack said, still fumbling through the pack, and Sawyer sighed and decided it was probably not the best time to inform Jack that Sawyer had _not_ been the one to gather supplies for this little getaway. He flushed again and wondered if it had been Sun or Sayid and then decided he’d rather not know.

“You drug me, drag me to an isolated spot, light a fire, get me drunk and drug me _again_ and then intend to have your way with me,” Jack said, finally finding an orange in the depths of the pack. He looked at Sawyer and shook his head. “Shameful, is what it is. Do you treat all your dates this way?”

“It’s not damned _date,”_ Sawyer grumbled as he stared up at the brilliance of the night sky. “You’re supposed to be restin’ and relaxin’ so you can go back and quit crackin’ the fuckin’ whip so hard.”

“There’s a _whip_ in here? Kinky. You perv, you were gonna dose me and then whip me, weren’t you? Or did you want me to whip _you,_ ‘cause I’m good at that, you know,” Jack said, grinning, and Sawyer shifted slightly at the erotic image that statement brought to mind. 

“Is that right?” Sawyer asked.

“Yep. I’ve got a nice touch with a riding crop – can make it sting, hurt like hell, bleed, whatever you want,” Jack said, smirking. Sawyer again shifted and scowled and tugged at the crotch of his jeans which had become uncomfortably tight as Jack again began digging through the pack. “Wanna try it? Where is it, the whip?”

“No whips, no date, no nothin’,” Sawyer grumbled, avoiding Jack’s leer.

“Too bad. Does that mean you’re breaking up with me?” Jack asked as he drunkenly tried to peel the orange and fell over on to his side in the process.

“What?”

“Does that mean you’re not my girlfriend anymore?”

_“What?”_

“Boyfriend?”

_“No!”_

Jack looked up and grinned. “My bitch? Manbitch, maybe?”

Sawyer moved so fast that Jack barely had time to blink, and he knocked Jack flat on his back and pinned him there by the shoulders.

“Now who’s the bitch?” Sawyer asked, smirking.

“You are. Open this for me, my little manbitch, I’m _starving,”_ Jack said, shoving the orange into Sawyer’s face. Sawyer sighed in exasperation and sat back and grabbed the orange and started peeling it.

 _“ ‘Open it,’_ for God’s sake, you _are_ drunk and a hell of a pain in the ass, Doc,” he muttered. “Here, it’s _open,_ now why don’t you eat it and quit all that talkin’, _bitch.”_

“I’m drunk, lots of people talk when they’re drunk and besides I don’t have anyone to talk _to,”_ Jack muttered and Sawyer stilled and stared down at him.

“Well, now you do,” he whispered and Jack’s eyes hardened and he rolled, planting one hand on either side of Sawyer’s head as he shoved up hard between Sawyer’s thighs.

“Thought you were hungry,” Sawyer murmured, grinning as he wrapped his legs around Sawyer’s waist.

“I am. Gimme,” Jack ordered, nodding at the orange and Sawyer tore away a slice and proceeded to smash it all over Jack’s face and chin while Jack spluttered.

“You missed my mouth, dumbass,” Jack muttered.

“Yeah, made hell of a mess, didn’t I?” Sawyer whispered and rose up slightly on his elbows and slowly began licking Jack’s neck, tasting juice and sweat and the race of Jack’s pulse underneath his tongue. Jack sighed and shuddered as Sawyer moved up his neck and chin to finally slide his tongue across Jack’s lips, and Jack moaned softly and moved to capture Sawyer’s mouth, but Sawyer avoided him and lay back down.

Jack glared at him and Sawyer grinned and then broke a slice in half.

“Come and get it,” he said before holding the orange between his teeth teasingly and Jack dove in, both of them biting at the same time. Jack tore the fruit from Sawyer’s mouth and swallowed and then mimicked Sawyer’s movements of earlier, tongue trailing hot and wet across Sawyer’s mouth and chin before he pulled back again.

“More,” Jack ordered and Sawyer smiled lazily and stuffed a slice of orange into Jack’s mouth before sliding both hands to Jack’s hips and pulling him close and starting a long, hard grind of cock against cock. Jack looked down at him through darkened eyes and then was kissing him, tongue delving, and he tasted of fruit and liquor and he groaned into Sawyer’s mouth as Sawyer rode him from below, his hips working slowly, a torturous and intense sensation for them both.

Jack pulled his mouth away and inhaled deeply and then shoved back with his hips, and again Sawyer smiled over the surge in his blood and took another slice of orange and broke it in half, sliding one half into Jack’s mouth and letting his fingers follow and Jack sighed, the juice of the fruit bursting in his mouth even as he began a slow, soft suck on Sawyer’s fingers.

 _“Fuck,”_ Sawyer whispered as he watched Jack, his eyes closed as he worked Sawyer’s fingers with slow, wet strokes of his tongue gliding against his fingers and then he nipped at them sharply before letting them go and staring down at Sawyer as he again began to grind against him forcefully, breathing heavily.

“Still hungry?” Sawyer murmured as his breath began to quicken, his hands returning to Jack’s ass to pull him closer as he thrust back against the movement of Jack’s hips.

“Yes,” Jack whispered, eyes black with need and desire. “Fuck, _yes.”_

“So am I,” Sawyer growled and then he was fumbling with the zippers of both pairs of jeans and soon had them both in hand, tight and hot and hard and Jack’s head dropped, forehead resting on Sawyer’s shoulder as he started to move.

 _“Christ,_ Sawyer,” he whispered against the skin of Sawyer’s shoulder before biting down sharply and sucking hard, hips suddenly moving hard and fast and Sawyer groaned loudly, cursing, head falling back as he rode that initial wave of sensation.

“Goddammit, Jack, too fuckin’ long, _Jesus,”_ he whispered, raising up slightly to capture Jack’s mouth with his own, a deep and broken kiss interrupted by curses and endearments and deep bites that combined blood with liquor and citrus and the taste that was inherently Jack and then Sawyer fell back again, looking down to see the two of them locked together by the binds that were Sawyer’s hands and then up at the intensity of Jack’s eyes and they watched one another, no words, just desire and for the first time in much too long Sawyer felt that overwhelming need that no one else had ever brought forth in him.

 _“Harder,”_ he ordered breathlessly. “Hard and faster and don’t you ever fuckin’ stop.”

“Don’t you ever fucking _leave,”_ Jack snarled, eyes black and demanding and Sawyer was shaking his head, no, he thought, he’d never leave now if he could help it and something in Jack’s eyes hardened and his fingers were digging into the dirt on either side of Sawyer’s head as he kissed him again, brutally, then he moved to plant his mouth on Sawyer’s neck to bite sharply and suck hard, a mark, something he’d never done before, not where it would be visible, and Sawyer knew through red haze of desire that Jack was claiming him and didn’t care who knew, and at the thought of it Sawyer gasped and bucked up against him, in turn begging and then ordering Jack to never stop, to never let go, and the touch of Jack’s mouth on Sawyer’s neck hurt and Sawyer winced in both pain and pleasure, breathing heavily at the combined sensations of vivid taste and scent and touch and Jack was grunting and moaning against his neck and moving faster, harder, erratically, and Sawyer found himself ablaze, hot, incapable of thought except for the whispers of ‘more’ he managed to utter and as he felt Jack harden even more against his hands he moved, shaking Jack’s mouth away so he could make a claim of his own on Jack’s skin, teeth digging deeply into sensitive flesh where shoulder met neck and his mouth and tongue worked, making it painful and sweet.

 _“Jesus,_ Sawyer . . . _God!”_ Jack groaned, and Sawyer tightened his grip, starting a counterstroke that had both of them moaning and gasping for air and then Jack’s back bowed as he came hot and wet over Sawyer’s hands and belly and then he pulled himself away, sliding down Sawyer’s chest and stomach to take Sawyer in his mouth, deeply, hot and wet, a firm pull of lips and tongue.

 _“Shit!”_ Sawyer hissed as he watched and his hips bucked. “Fuck, Jack . . . _Christ,_ so fuckin’ good,” he groaned and then again he arched up high, unable to help himself, fucking Jack’s mouth deeply and Jack let him, encouraged him, his hands tight under Sawyer’s hips as he forced Sawyer deeper, watching Sawyer closely as he did so, eyes saying much more than words would ever say and then Sawyer tensed, gritting his teeth as he spilled into Jack’s mouth, the movement of his hips becoming slower and less forceful as his body eased and then he collapsed on to the ground, panting and sweating.

 _“God,”_ he muttered, closing his eyes and flinging one forearm over his eyes as he felt Jack sliding up the length of his sweat-slick body and then his mouth was being claimed again, salt and sea and again the tang of liquor and the heady sweetness of citrus and the taste of them both combined, familiar but still tantalizing after so long.

Then Jack said it, quietly. 

And not knowing what else to do, and because it was true, Sawyer said it back.

Then they slept, long and hard and deep, a sweaty tangle of limbs.

***

The sun was high when they woke and Jack sat up, scowling and blinking blearily against the glare of the sun.

“Sticky,” he grumbled, wiping at his face and neck.

Sawyer snorted and grinned. _“You_ were the one who was hungry. Better go clean up before you start drawin’ flies. Or the evil island bugs.”

“Shut up,” Jack muttered before flopping heavily across Sawyer and pressing his face against Sawyer’s chest. “Doesn’t matter anyway, I haven’t felt clean since Arzt blew up all over me.”

Sawyer frowned and lifted his head. _“What?”_

“Yeah, you didn’t hear about that? He exploded all over the place. It was LOUD. And like a burst of bloody human confetti. Or maybe a really, really gross and kind of . . . _gooey_ and slimy piñata,” Jack said, sighing and shuddering and then his shoulders were shaking.

Sawyer grimaced and then sighed in exasperation. “Jesus, you’re not _cryin’_ again, are you? You are _the_ most cryingest man I have ever –“

Jack’s head shot up and he glared. “There’s no such word as ‘cryingest’ and I’m an emotional person! _I’M INTENSE!_ ” he bellowed before burying his face again in Sawyer’s chest.

Sawyer stared at the top of Jack’s head, stunned, wondering if he’d really just seen what he thought he’d seen. Then he heard a familiar muffled noise and his jaw dropped. “You ain’t cryin’, you asshole, you’re fuckin’ laughin’!”

“AM NOT!”

“You damn well are!”

“I AM NOT!”

“A guy blows up and you’re fuckin’ _laughin’?”_ Sawyer said. Then he grinned. “My kinda guy.”

“Oh, shut up,” Jack said, heaving himself up to a seating position and grabbing one of the whiskey bottles and taking a sip before handing it to Sawyer. 

Jack sighed and stared into the distance. “Yep. Arzt fall down go BOOM!” He paused for a moment, thinking. “No, actually, it was more like Arzt go ‘yap, yap, yap,’ and then go BOOM! I think I hate him even more now than I did before he exploded.”

Sawyer stared at him for a long moment before losing it completely, laughing long and hard and loudly, tears streaming as he convulsed on the ground.

“Sawyer, he got _on_ me! _On_ me! Slimy little pieces of him all over me! Ewww! Bet he did it on purpose, he _did_ seem to be leaning in my direction.”

Sawyer lost his breath, completely unable to speak as he laughed, then he finally got to his knees, breathing deeply.

“So you’re sayin’ our ol’ buddy Arzt blew up on you on _purpose?”_ he wheezed when he was finally able to control himself.

“Well, no, he was holding a stick of dynamite. People just don’t blow up for no reason, don’t be stupid,” Jack said, sighing a put-upon sigh. Then he scowled. “But I bet he _was_ aiming at me, just in case he did blow up.”

Again Sawyer lost it, face down in the dirt as he laughed, and when he finally was able to catch his breath he kicked Jack hard with his bare foot. “If people had _any_ idea what kind of asshole you are, this ‘leader’ shit would be out the window,” he said.

Jack leaned forward heavily, poking Sawyer hard in the chest.

“THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING SINCE THE BEGINNING! _WHY_ DO PEOPLE KEEP PUTTING ME IN CHARGE OF THINGS? I DON’T EVEN _LIKE_ PEOPLE, PEOPLE ARE _STUPID!”_ he bellowed and Sawyer winced slightly at the volume. “‘Jack, I’m coming with you. Jack, I’m going down the hatch. Jack, I’m going down the hatch, too. Jack, we’re _all_ going down the hatch, we don’t care what you say, neener neener. Jack, I have a rash and hangnail and I stubbed my toe and how do I keep from getting sunburned?’ Blah blah blah blah BLAH! Idiots.” Jack rolled his eyes.

“Besides,” he said, settling back and sighing. “You’re laughing, aren’t you? _Really_ laughing, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you do that before.”

“So you’re doin’ this for _my_ benefit?” Sawyer asked, still grinning and wiping away tears.

“Yes. No. Maybe. No, actually, I _am_ an asshole,” Jack said, sighing, and he grabbed the bottle away from Sawyer and finished it off. Then he looked at Sawyer and smiled slightly, tilting his head as he watched Sawyer through narrowed eyes. “But it _is_ nice to hear you laugh.”

Sawyer looked at him for a long moment before leaning in to kiss him hard and then he stood and held out a hand and hauled Jack to his feet. “Need to get cleaned up.”

“God, yes,” Jack said and then it was a race to the pool. “Gotta get all that Arzt off me.”

 _“WHAT?_ Jesus! Never would have touched you if I’d known you were covered in _Arzt,”_ Sawyer barked, backing up slightly.

“Too late! Arzt slime all _over_ you. In your _mouth_ , even,” Jack said, smirking, and then he dove. Soon he surfaced and grinned when he saw Sawyer standing with a look of distaste on his face several feet away. “Oh, for Christ’s sake. I’ve taken a _bath,_ Sawyer. I’ve taken more baths since that asshole blew up then I have in my _life.”_

He grinned and dove again.

Sawyer sighed and shook his head and then swam after him.

***

 _“Jesus,_ Sawyer,” Jack groaned as he collapsed facedown on the bedroll they’d finally unpacked. “I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”

Sawyer fell at his side and stretched, body warm and limp. “You’re relaxed, aren’t you?” he murmured, sleep threatening to overtake him again. _“I_ sure as hell am.”

“I’m relaxed but I’m not rested,” Jack whispered, yawning widely.

“Sleep then.”

“Right,” Jack murmured, already halfway there. “Good thing you brought that lotion.”

Again Sawyer flushed and flung one forearm over his eyes. “Yeah. Good thing.”

***

They rose well before sunrise on the day they were scheduled to return and Sawyer looked up from packing to see that Jack was standing at the edge of the cliff, arms crossed as he stared down at the encampment.

Sawyer fastened both packs and dowsed the fire, and then moved to stand behind Jack, leaning into him slightly.

Jack sighed heavily and scrubbed at his face with both hands. “I don’t hate _any_ of them, you know,” he said wearily.

“I know,” Sawyer murmured, looking down at the dozens of flickering fires of the camp, a small and bright city in and of itself.

“It’s just . . . there’s so many of them and so much going on that I don’t understand – I don’t know _how_ to take care of them all, I have no idea what to _do,_ there just doesn’t seem to be any kind of right of wrong here. It’s like I’m working blindfolded,” Jack said and Sawyer sighed and they were quiet for a while as they watched the island come alive with the rising of the sun.

“We’ll figure it out,” Sawyer said finally. “You ready?”

“No,” Jack said, heaving one of the packs over his shoulder.

“Me, neither,” Sawyer said, then turned and began to lead the way down the path as Jack followed.

“You know, Doc,” Sawyer said as he stepped over rocks and shoved branches out of the way. “A lot of stuff washed up on the other side of the island.”

“Yeah? Like what? Anything we can use?” Jack asked from behind him.

“Well, all that booze, for one thing,” Sawyer said as he continued walking and then he grinned. “Clothes, books, razors, a riding crop, aftershave-“

 _“What?_ Wait wait wait! Go back one!”

***

“And then what?” Jack asked as he stood in front of Hurley, looking at him earnestly.

“Dude, this is really kind of a personal thing, you know,” Hurley said, flailing mentally as to what to do next.

“I understand and I hope I’m not intruding but I’d really like to know,” Jack said. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, Hurley, do go on,” Charlie said, leaning against a boulder a few feet away. “Quite fascinatin’.”

“Indeed,” Sayid said, propped against the boulder next to Charlie with arms and ankles crossed. “I’m actually considering converting. Please, Hurley, continue.”

Hurley glared at both of them over Jack’s shoulder and then rolled his eyes when they both smirked, then look around and scrabbled for several broken branches and placed them in a sloppy circle on the ground.

“Well,” Hurley said, grabbing a passion fruit off the makeshift and haphazard altar he’d been forced to make when Jack had insisted on attending one of his ‘rituals.’ 

“Then you hop in and out of this mystical circle like this,” he said, and demonstrated while Charlie and Sayid snickered behind their hands. “Then you shake your magical gourd. Or, passion fruit, I guess, in this case. I kinda have to make do around here, you know.”

Jack nodded, hands on hips. “I see,” he said, and then grabbed the sacred rock off the altar. “And then I go into the desert on a vision quest and find out that death is my gift, right? Or is this the part where I hit you on the back of the head with the holy rock?”

“Well, no, I guess you’d have to go into the jungle, no desert here, and since you’re a doctor and all I’m thinkin’ your gift would be life and – _DUDE!”_ he exclaimed, eyes wide with shock as he poked Jack in the chest as Sayid and Charlie doubled over laughing. _“You_ watched Buffy?”

Jack said nothing, simply held the rock in his hands as he glared menacingly.

Hurley sighed in defeat. “Listen, Jack, the rock thing –“

“He was goin’ to _hit_ you with it, Jack!” Charlie said, innocence personified. _“I_ would never have done such a thing. Never!”

Sayid rolled his eyes as Hurley glared at Charlie and muttered ‘snitch’ before returning his attention to Jack.

“Jack, I’m sorry about the rock but you were bein’ kind of a . . . dick,” Hurley said, backing up slightly and watching Jack carefully.

Jack grinned suddenly and Hurley sighed in relief. 

“I know, I know, Hurley, I’m sorry. I’ll never let it happen again,” Jack said and Hurley stared at him in disbelief. Jack sighed and tossed the rock aside and held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll _try_ not to ever let it happen again.”

“That’s the most a dude can ask,” Hurley said, grinning and Jack smiled and clapped him on the shoulder when a muffled cough drew his attention. He looked to see Sawyer behind the boulder, Sayid and Charlie frowning at him and leaning away from him slightly. Sawyer stood, riding crop in hand and he smiled, looking at Jack through heavy-lidded eyes as he brushed the tip of the crop back and forth across his mouth.

“Uh . . .” Jack said, watching Sawyer closely and swallowing hard as Sawyer leaned casually against a tree, smirking. “So . . . we’re, aherm, okay, Hurley?”

“Sure, right as –"

“Good,” Jack said, already running, and Sayid and Charlie flung themselves to the ground as Jack leapt over the boulder in pursuit of Sawyer, who had disappeared into the jungle.

“Bloody hell,” Charlie said, eyes wide. “Can you believe that?”

“I know, dude, that is _so_ weird,” Hurley said, hands on hips. “I cannot _believe_ that Jack watched Buffy, he just doesn’t seem the type.”

Sayid sighed and stood, brushing himself off. “Hurley, your naiveté can be quite charming.”

“What? Oh, you mean the whip thing. No, _that_ doesn’t surprise me one bit,” Hurley said as the three of them started down the path back to beach.

“It doesn’t?” Charlie asked. “‘Cause I can’t quite picture Jack lettin’ Sawyer _whip_ him, not that I really want to. Ah, well, different strokes for different folks. So to speak.”

Sayid sighed again and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, no, dude, you got it all backwards. I know my way around a whip and Jack’s a total dom, Sawyer’s gonna be the one gettin’ stroked,” Hurley said and Sayid and Charlie both stared at him. “Oh, yeah. I’ve been doin’ the whip thing for a while now. There was this bondage club me and my girlfriend used to go to and this one time we . . .”

Charlie listened with fascinated interest while Sayid stuck his fingers in his ears and sang _Never Been to Spain._

***

The End


End file.
